 | Grouped thoughts and scattered fancies |  |
26
XXXII.
LIGHT WITHIN.
Not wholly dark the darkness! The shut eyeIs but an intimation to the soul,
That thenceforth spreads a wing without control,
And seeks its light in immortality;—
Beating its upward wing against the sky,
Impatient of the invisible, and still,
Catching such golden glimpses of the goal,
As make new pulses to emotion thrill,
And a new spirit waken;—though denied
Fruition of the promise, 'till that life,
Which now makes upward flight a thing of strife,
Yields to the better virtue in our gift;—
And we unclose an eye that makes us lift
Vans mighty, that must bear us far and wide.
| Grouped thoughts and scattered fancies | |